


Morality

by Oh_Dearie_Dear



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Dearie_Dear/pseuds/Oh_Dearie_Dear
Summary: "Ahh," Gold leaned back to admire her baffled expression. "Now you're seeing it.""Seeing what?" She snapped."The real unjust," He answered her. "The hierarchy you heroes hide behind. Actions that would morally be wrong justified by the title you hold. Every hero has it - no villain gains from it."





	1. Chapter 1

"Was it weird being trapped in The Crocodile's mind?" Killian joked, his arm subconsciously wrapping around Emma's shoulders. "All dark and evil, I'd imagine."

Emma tilted her head sideways to meet Killian's curious gaze. "No. It was...sad."

Emma had mixed feelings about Gold. If her and Neal had ever married, he would be her father-in-law, which she didn't feel to keen about. From what Bae had explained, Gold had practically ruined his life. Then again, she didn't know the full story. 

But despite all of that, Emma had never been too fond of Gold, anyway. His deals, although he always kept to them, seemed unfair, even when they were. He was a tricky person to deal with, and she never remembered a single moment where she had actually enjoyed his presence. And really, Gold just seemed like a mean person in general. He rarely smiled out of kindness, if he ever smiled at all. When he did smile, it was usually a smug smile after winning some kind of argument with Regina, or making a deal that benefited him more than the other person without them knowing. In hindsight, her original idea of his life consisted with rich parents, wealthy privilege, and a problem-free life that she may or may not have been a little jealous of. To say Emma felt uncomfortable with him was an understatement. 

However, now digging deeper than anyone had ever gone - had ever bothered - she'd realized the little facade he put on was a defense mechanism. Something to keep everyone locked out, keeping everyone afraid of him in order to obtain power over them - or really, himself. No one liked to be vulnerable, but this man seemed to take it to the next level. 

"Sad?" Killian sat up, moving to rest a delicate hand on his new wife's knee. 

"Something like that," Emma didn't really know how to put what she felt into words, or how to describe her new look on The Dark One. And as she pressed herself to find the words, an odd pain in her chest grew and grew. She couldn't feel....guilty, could she? Because, what would she feel guilty for?

She let that sink in, her mind wandering as her lover's face studied her in concern. 

For one, she'd seemed to misjudge the man too quickly, and had let everyone else do the same without a second thought - without a thought at all. Everyone knew the story of The Dark One, but no one seemed to know the story of Rumplestiltskin. And no one seemed to bother to. And she realized, she should have. Her parents interpretation of the man shouldn't affect the way she saw him, and for God's sakes, she was a bail bondsperson; she should know how to dig, but she never _did_. She let his reputation blind her from figuring out who this man really was. And Emma would like to say she was good at reading people, but she really must not be, because she completely misread this man. She was farther from the truth than she'd like to admit, and it was eating her up.

Second off, she killed his son. She let him die, and made it happen - whether she meant she meant to or not. She listened to Neal, instead of him. She let Rumple _watch_ his son _die_ \- watched his only son take his last breath in utter pain - because Neal _said so_. And now, he was gone. She also let the parent in mourning get recaptured by the witch - the very same woman that was basically the main cause of his son's murder. She let the woman play with him, let her torture his mind. And then, even though she knew he couldn't be there, she held the funeral. She had his son's funeral... _without him_. And suddenly, her thoughts wandered to the headstone, and - _good Lord_ \- she didn't even have the decency to put his real name! _Neal_ was not his name, _Baelfire_ was, but she still engraved it into that damn stone that stood over his corpse. Rumple had just been reunited with his son, had just been forgiven by him, and lost him all too quickly. 

Her heart rate rose, her throat suddenly feeling dry. She swallowed, hoping it would moisten her mouth, but it only made it worse. 

"Love?" Killian's hand was on her chin now, and he looked concerned. "Emma, talk to me - what's going on?" 

Emma didn't respond at first, only let her eyes meet his. They were wetter than normal, but no tears had come...yet. She swallowed again, took in a breathe, and brought her hand up to Killian's to pluck his own hand away from her chin. 

And how about the fact that she had complained about having no parents for most of her life, when Rumple basically never had parents...and never would. Both of his parents were _wack_ , for lack of a better word. One despised him for something that clearly wasn’t his fault, then _left him_...the other destined to _kill him?_ So she also _left him_ and is now _evil_ considered the _Black Fairy?_ That...was messed up beyond belief. Not to mention, his wife also left him... _no wonder_ Gold was so messed up.

She found her family, but he'd never had one. Or how about the fact that he never had anyone to turn to, because no one would take him? Or the fact that no one wanted to help him like people wanted to help Regina? He never even had a chance. 

Because no one ever gave him one. 

Yes, there was Belle. But despite her love, it just wasn't enough. She could never fully understand him. Come to think of it, she always tried to change him, and never really tried to heal him. She loved him, Emma saw that, but the younger woman was naive at times, and could never understand him on a personal level. 

But Emma could. Well, _now_ she could. Not fully, but enough to maybe reach out. Give him hope the way she gave Regina hope. She was rather stubborn - Regina never ceased to tell her that - so maybe she could help. To pay back for everything she'd done. 

"I need to talk to Gold," She finally stated, bouncing her head up and down to stop herself from backing out - like somehow that would give her enough courage. 

"What - _why?_ " Killian was clueless, because, apparently, he couldn't read minds. He cocked his head to the side, that hint of 'something's wrong, I can feel it' look slowly appearing on his features. 

"To...I don't know." She felt kind of stupid now. How could she put this to make it not sound...completely absurd? It was a challenge, indeed. "To help him."

Apparently, a failed challenge, because Killian's features didn't exactly hold delight in it. 

"Why the Hell would you want to _help_ him?" 

"Because no one else will." It was cheesy, and a little too emotional for her own good, but it held truth. Ugly truth, but the truth nonetheless. You now those movies that hold that one, grumpy, old man that everyone hates and doesn't understand? Emma felt that was the role Gold was currently playing in this town. 

"Love, you've already _saved your family_. You've done enough saving for _years_." Killian attempted a lighthearted laugh, but it was tense and came out awkwardly. 

"I didn't save everyone," Emma retorted. "I never saved him, never tried."

"He's not family -"

"He _is_." Emma snapped, pushing Killian's hand off her knee at a rapid pace. "Kind of. I mean, he's _Henry’s grandfather_ , and had Neal and I gotten married...he would have been my _father-in-law_."

Saying it out loud made her gag, not from disgust, but from shame. How could she have been so blind?

"But he's not," Killian argued lightly, proceeding with caution. "He's never done anything for us."

"And we've never done anything for him!" Why was she getting so emotional? This made zero sense to her, but it felt right. And that was enough to keep her going. "Nobody's ever done anything for him! And it isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair!" Killian shot back, and he really shouldn't have. "Emma, no one gets an easy life. No one."

"I know that! I lived that! So did he!" 

"And so did I!" Killian threw his hands in the air. "What makes him different from all of us, huh? Tell me, Emma."

"He never had anyone! He still doesn't have anyone!"

Killian hated Gold, with a deep, burning passion. It made sense why his next sentence came out without a thought. 

"You won't get far! Emma, _give up_. He doesn't have anyone because he _leaves_ , he _kills_. He refuses help, and takes it out on other people! He's _helpless_." He hissed. 

Emma paused with a dull laugh. She was smiling, but it was an angry smile - no where near happy. She shook her head. 

"So was I," Was her next sentence as she stared Killian dead in the eye. And with that, she grabbed her purple coat and walked out. Killian sighed, but stayed where he was - he knew better than to go after her.  
_____

It was pretty windy outside, which was the first thing Emma noticed as she was walking the streets of the town. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, blowing around with the wind. Aimlessly walking, she found herself stomping into Gold's shop. She busted in, the poor, abused bell signaling her presence. Gold looked up, a look of confusion running across his face. Right...he was wondering why she was here. 

"Hey, Gold." Emma breathed out, rubbing her nose to warm it up. She took off her scarf, deciding she'd get hot with the heater on. She threw off her coat, too, hanging it on her arm. 

"Miss Swan," Gold greeted with a slow nod, clearly still confused of her presence. He shifted onto his other foot, and eyed her again, waiting for her response. "is there something I can help you with?"

"Uh, no." Dammit, now what was she supposed to do? "Not...really."

He gave her a look that morphed between annoyance and confusion, his eyebrows narrowed. 

"Then may I ask for your reasoning for busting into my shop at..." He glanced upwards at a clock that hung above a tall bookshelf. "...half past midnight?"

"I just, ah..." She wrinkled her nose, tasting words and swallowing them when they didn't match what she wanted to say. 

"Miss Swan-"

"How are you?" She blurted, because damn it all, there was no _easy_ way to bring up such a topic.

She would have liked to say he melted with the sudden act of affection, opened up easily, and that they talked with such ease, but...no. Instead, Gold looked amused. He chuckled as he tilted his head forward and drummed his fingers on the glass counter. 

"Do I have something on my nose?" She attempted to joke as she brought her left hand to the skin on her face. "Maybe I'm much funnier than I, ah, realized..."

The amusement didn't fall from his face. "Go home, Miss Swan."

“No,” Internally, every fiber of her being said to _leave_. If she was smart, she would tempt him no further and walk out that door like he’d requested - no, _demanded_. But Emma never claimed to be smart. So, she took in a breath, and repeated herself. “No.”

Gold chuckled, and Emma felt stupid as his eyes seemed to mock her. “No? My my, what a hero.” 

Another chuckle rumbled in his throat as he walked - more like glided - to the end of counter, as if he was an evil sorcerer - oh, wait, he _was_. Emma swallowed. Why was she here again? Oh, yeah. 

“That is the talk around town,” She responded. Better to play his game than to go against it. “Never thought you were a gossiper, though. Guess you learn something new every day.” 

“Guess you do,” Gold leaned his hip against the glass counter. He smiled toothily, reminding Emma of the first time she met him at Granny’s Bed And Breakfast. “Miss Swan, while I always love a good banter, I have to ask: What _are_ you here for?”

“I’ve already said.”

“No. You haven’t.” 

She huffed, again feeling stupid despite herself. “I came to _check on you_.” 

“To check on me?”

“ _Yes_.” She emphasized.

“To check on me.” He repeated, thought it was more of a statement than a question this time. “To - Miss Swan, what is this?”

Okay, so, explanation time. Why was she checking on him? No, why did she feel the _need_ to check on him?

“Your father - Pan - he was a jackass.” 

“Well, thank you for noticing.” 

“No, that’s not what -” Emma sighed. “I’m trying to _relate_.”  
“With Snow White and Prince Charming as your parents?” Gold inquired, as if the idea was hilarious. And okay, he’s not _wrong_. Anyone would definitely kill for her parents, she was definitely lucky. 

“They weren’t always my parents.” She insisted, crossing her arms defensively. “Besides, they’re not perfect. They’ve lied, for one.” 

“And hide behind the hero card,” Gold added thoughtfully. “Fair enough.” 

“Hide behind the hero card?” Emm questioned lightly. Gold snorted. 

“When dear Snow White decides to kill Cora for the greater good, she’s considered a hero, but when I kill Zelena for murdering my son and enslaving me, I’m considered a villain.” Gold lifted an eyebrow at her. “You don’t find something wrong with that?”

“No,” Emma snapped, defensive of her parents. “Zelena, for one, was captured. She wasn't harming anyone. It was unjust.”

“ _She had already harmed someone._ ” Gold snapped right back. “My son, for one - Henry’s _father_. Not including my misfortune of being treated like an animal - _she locked me in a cage_ , all the while you heros held my son’s funeral. Talk about unjust.”

Emma cringed - okay, so maybe he had a point. 

“But it’s all alright now,” Gold waved a hand mockingly. “She has a child now - unfortunate thing - and shows a shred of human decency, so now she’s a hero.” 

Emma’s mind reeled. She licked her lips. Now that he put it that way...it didn’t sound right at all.

“Ahh,” Gold leaned back to admire her baffled expression. “Now you’re seeing it.”

“Seeing what?” She snapped.

“The _real_ unjust,” He answered her. “The hierarchy you heros hide behind. Actions that would morally be wrong justified by the title you hold. Every hero has it - no villain gains from it.”

“Because you’re _villains_.” Emma argued with a snort. 

“A social construct you’ve made up to separate you from anyone else who doesn't have the same views as you do. I’m not saying the things I have done are right, I’m saying you heros interpret the things you do as right, when in reality, the actions are the same.” Gold pointed out carefully.

“But villains _murder people_. They’re _evil_.” Emma shook her head, her own guilt denying her the truth. Anger bubbled in her. _How dare he..._

“Evil is an opinion,” Gold frowned at this. “What makes someone evil, Emma?”

This was the first time he’d addressed her by her first name. It sent chills down her spine. 

“Bad intentions? I don’t - it’s just - _bad_. Bad actions for their own personal gain, not thinking of anyone else but themselves. Killing, just _bad_.” Emma was at a loss of words. This isn’t - her parents aren’t _bad_.

“The world is not as black and white as you’re making it out to be.” Gold’s breathing steadied. “Heroes kill, your own mother killed Cora, _not even thinking about how others would feel_. How do you think Regina felt when her mother died? But it’s okay though, because killing Cora helped us win the battle _for our own personal gain._ ”

Emma’s head felt heavy. _No. He’s wrong._

“That’s not the same thing,” She muttered quietly, her arms hugging herself. Doubt etched within her.

“How so?” Gold tilted his head. “They still killed a person. But because of their title, it’s considered heroic. I’m not saying Cora deserved to live, but the action _was_ morally evil.”

“She felt terrible after though…” Emma tried to defend. 

“So if say I’m guilty for killing Zelena, the action goes away? Guilt cannot erase what happened.” Emma wanted to throw up. Bile rose in her throat. “And how about your father? Dear _Prince Charming_. He murdered many guards trying to get you to the wardrobe.”

“He was protecting me.” Emma protested weakly, her head pounding. 

“And that erases the fact that they were murdered? They must have had families, children, wives...how do you think they felt when they realized one of their own was killed?”

“They were working for the queen!” She shouted.

“Were they? Or were they forced to do as they were told out of fear? Last I remember, Regina treated them like slaves. Maybe they _were_.”

“They were doing bad things,” Emma whispered. 

“They were simply on the opposite side, and most likely not willingly.” Gold shuffled his feet. “Besides, killing, I think, counts as a _bad act._ ”

Emma did throw up this time, retching onto the floor as she dropped to her knees. She gagged a few more times, her heart pounding, her palms sweaty as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The nausea she felt had now passed, but her head still pounded. She looked up just in time to see Gold at her side, offering her a glass of water and a napkin. She took it gratefully, still on the ground.

Gold waved a hand and the vomit vanished into thin air. Emma then sat up and took a sip of the water finally. It could be poisoned, she realized, just as she swallowed her first sip. But, she figured, if Gold had wantd her dead, she would most likely already be. With that in thought, she took a large gulp. Then paused. 

“Peppermint?” Her voice sounded uneven. She cleared her throat as Gold turned to her. 

“Helps with nausea,” Gold commented with a shrug. Emma nodded silently. 

Gold left her on the floor as he went into the back of his shop to do God-knows-what. She appreciated the silence, though, turning around to rest her back against the cool, glass counter. And so, she thought. 

True to her own beliefs, her parents _did_ have good intentions when they did all this stuff, but was that enough? Was it enough to erase the act completely? Did it make it _right?_ Did it make it _not evil?_

Her mind raced, only stopping when Gold finally re-entered the room. She looked up, meeting his stoic gaze before it dropped to his arms. Her purple sweater folded over his arm. Without a word, he stepped towards her, bending down to her level. With a gentleness she never knew he had, he slipped one sleeve onto her arm.

It was quiet. With the last of her courage mustered, she swallowed. “Gold?”

He didn't respond, but she knew he was listening.

“Is it really the same?” Emma’s voice croaked with clogged emotions. “Their actions, are - are they really the same as a villains?”

Gold sighed, but was silent until her sweater was entirely on. He finally met her gaze. 

“Technically, yes.” He started, and Emma sucked in a breath. “But thought does count, I do believe in that. It’s not everything, but it counts for something. I’m not saying your parents are evil, as you put it, but that...not every villain might be either. The world is neither black or white, but some mixture of both.”

Pausing to help her stand, she let him slip an arm under her to hoist her up. She wobbled for a second, letting him steady her before taking her scarf he offered her. 

“Then, what’s your point?” She asked, putting the scarf around her neck. 

“Can you walk?” He ignored her question. His tone was firm, but concern etched his voice. “If you do not feel you can walk, I can call one of your parents. I noticed you didn’t bring your cell.”

“Forgot it,” She muttered. “It’s fine, I can walk.” 

“Only walk if you are sure, I don’t need your father running my door down with his truck when he finds you passed out a foot away from my shop.” A hint of amusement laced his voice. 

“He would, wouldn’t he,” Emma snorted. “Yeah, I can walk.”

“Off you go, then. It’s late. I have work to do.” And the Mr. Gold she knew was back. At least it felt familiar.

“Yeah, yeah,” She rolled her eyes, turning her back to him as she headed for the door. “I’m going, jeez.”

She opened the door, the little bell ringing loudly. Immediately, the wind blew in her face, making her shiver. Before she could exit, Gold spoke up. 

“Miss Swan,” He called out. Emma turned around, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Huh?”

“My point,” He folded his hands together in front of him. “Is every villain is a hero in their own story.” 

And with that, his gaze tore away from her as he exited into the back of his shop. Emma stared for a few more seconds, before leaving and closing the door behind her. Heading for the direction of her house, she briefly heard the bell chime one more time.


	2. Chapter 2

     That night, laying beside her clearly awake husband - who was too nervous to confront her - Emma Swan pin-pointed every decision she could remember making with her parents, and analyzed them. And every - and she meant  _ every _ \- decision that came to mind then proved the truth Gold had preached about. 

 

     Opposite sides... _ opposite sides _ . Who’s to say which of the two were evil? Who decided when an action was just evil...or justified? Who -  _ what _ \- decided when something supposedly justified crossed the line of humanity? Who decided humanity, for lack of better words? 

 

     What. The.  _ Hell? _

 

     Emma drummed her fingers on her chest, her mind echoing every point Gold had thrown at her. His words, his accented voice, it haunted her and refused to let her sleep. Refused to let her rest. She could wake up Killian - er,  _ face him _ . Maybe Killian would understand if she told him, if she explained, because for the love of fairy tales, she  _ needed _ to discuss this with someone. 

 

     Besides the voice in her head, only one person came to mind. Emma reached for her cell, grabbed it, and was relieved to find the battery life decent. Sending a quick text to the very culprit herself, Emma waited.

 

**_Emma-2:43am:_ **

_ can u talk? _

 

     Surprisingly, her mother answered no more than two minutes afterwards. Emma sometimes forgot her parents had a baby, resulting in the weird sleeping schedule.

 

**_Mom-2:45am:_ **

_ Of course! everything okay?? _

 

     Another buzz vibrated Emma’s hand as her mother sent a number of various different heart emojis. As endearing as the gesture was, Emma sometimes wished she’d never taught her mother how to access the miniature faces. 

 

**_Emma-2:46am:_ **

_ meet me @ grannies in 10 _

 

**_Mom-2_ ** **:46am:**

okok.

 

     Another string of emojis - this time different smiley faces - were sent to her. Emma sighed. At least she was willing to talk at almost three in the morning. Emma wasn’t about to complain. 

 

     Quietly slipping from bed, Emma grabbed her coat hanging off the coach and pulled it over her pajamas. Dignity be damned, she was too emotionally exhausted to put on a proper outfit. Besides, anyone out at three am didn’t have the right to judge her anyway. They were in the same boat. 

**-page skip, lol-**

 

     “Emma,” Her mother smiled as she entered the oddly open diner. Little Neal was in his carseat designed as a carrier, giving her mom access to hug her. Emma didn’t protest, indulging on ignorance once more before they started their conversation. 

 

     “Hey, mom.” A kiss, a small coo at Neal, and a cup of hot chocolate later, both her and her mother sat across each other. Snow’s hand, which was lightly rested on Emma’s own hand, gave a gentle squeeze. 

 

     “What’s keeping you from sleeping, huh?” Snow brushed a thumb over Emma’s knuckles. “Usually, breakfast isn’t  _ this _ early.”

 

     “Yeah well…” Emma sighed, slowly pulling her hand off the table and into her lap. “There’s...stuff I’ve been thinking about.”

 

     Eyes bright with interest, Snow nodded, eagerly waiting for her daughter to open up and spill whatever was on her mind. Emma recognized the look as the same when the curse had first been broken...it felt so  _ long _ ago.  

 

     Swallowing, Emma began. “Do you - how - can you count every person you’ve, er, killed?”

 

     Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best way Emma could have opened up the topic, considering how Snow’s face morphed into clear confusion, some defensive look mixing with it. But, in Emma’s defense, it was late, and she was too exhausted to tiptoe around the serious matter. Besides, how  _ do _ you bring up a topic like this one? The odds were against her. 

 

     “Yes…” Snow was careful as she rested her own hands into her lap. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

 

     “Er,” Emma hastily took a sip of her hot chocolate, then sighed. “Gold just...he said something. And it just - it got me thinking, you know?”

 

     Snow’s eyes darkened, a frown pulled at her lips. “Emma…” Smoothing her hands on her thighs, Snow continued. “That man...he...Emma, he isn’t on our side. Whatever he said, whatever he tried to convince you, I’m sure it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

 

     Emma didn’t respond right away, taking a moment to study her mother’s reaction. Her mother was quick to frown, quick to dismiss anything ‘that man’ has said. She was defensive, so off put by the simple idea of the man’s thoughts and concerns being voiced to Emma. But why? This man, while undoubtedly caused trouble once in awhile, had never personally attacked one of them - not unprompted, anyway. In any case, Gold had helped them in a bind, whether happy about it or not. So what was with her mother’s hostility?

 

     “Well, I  _ am _ worrying.” Emma stated a little irritably, setting her cup down. “Er, contemplating. Whatever.”

 

     “Okay…” Her mother leaned forward, lifting her hands to clasp on the table. “What is it your...contemplating?”

 

     Emma fidgeted in her seat, suddenly self conscious. She knew Gold’s statements made sense, but her mother  _ did _ have a point; he wasn’t on their side. But hold on... _ opposite sides _ . She had to take that into consideration. Just because he was on a different side doesn’t mean his points were invalid, no matter how harsh they were. There were truth to them, she had to address that. With that in mind, Emma continued. 

 

     “He, ah,” She scratched her neck, trying to word it the best way she could. “Well, he basically called you all hypocrites...without actually calling you hypocrites.”

 

     Snow’s eyebrow lifted immediately. “Did he? Huh.” 

 

     Emma watched as Snow hummed to herself again while taking a sip of her own hot beverage. Somehow, the action seemed a lot like mockery. 

 

     “Mom?” Emm queried with a sigh. “Something you wanna say?”

 

     “No, no...I just,” Emma’s thoughts were confirmed when Snow snorted and set down her mug. “It’s just funny how villain mind’s work, you know? They hurt people, yet  _ we’re _ the hypocrites. And  _ we’re _ bad.”

 

     “Being bad doesn’t make you an automatic hypocrite,” Emma pointed out, then added lightly, “and being good doesn’t make you not a hypocrite. You can be good,  _ and _ a hypocrite.”

 

     Snow’s eyes turned accusing. “Do you believe him?”

 

     “No! No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Emma quickly defended, with an annoyed huff. “It’s just...his points, they weren’t off.”

 

     Snow hummed again, this time with her eyebrows pinched, like Emma has just slapped her or done some other vile act. “And what were these points?” 

 

     Snow’s voice had dropped a notch, reminding Emma of the bandit she was so long ago.

 

     “He...he says that all of us hide behind our hero cards. That nothing we do is wrong, that everything we do is justifiable because of our title.”

 

     “Well, that’s wrong. We’re not hypocrites.” Snow’s voice was stern and final. “But of course he would say that. He’s a villain, Emma.  _ This is what he does. _ He gets into your head, makes you doubt yourself. Since his life is so surrounded by darkness and anger, he feels the need to make others feel the same way.”

 

     Emma froze, her fingers twitching. Her mother was so sure of her the hero in her, that she seemed to doubt the  _ human _ in her. Humans messed up. Humans could be hypocrites. To deny that simple because of a title? Was Gold...was he  _ right _ ?

 

     “Of course it is.” Emma then snapped. “This town hasn’t done shit for him.”

 

_      “Emma!” _ Snow suddenly gasped with sheer shock and disappointment. “Language.”  

 

     Emma rolled her eyes, rubbing her hands together in frustration. 

 

     “How about Regina?” The slight perk in Snow’s eyes make Emma queasy. “What about her? She was a villain - her life was surrounded by darkness and anger. What makes her so different?”

 

     “She was willing to change,” Her mother said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wanted to change. He doesn't.”

 

     “How do you know he doesn’t?”

 

     Snow made a face. “Emma, come on. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Mr. Gold here?”

 

     Snow laughed as if it was a joke. Emma was smart enough to know it was not. She ignored her mother’s snicker, instead continuing on. 

 

     “No, really - have you ever asked him?” Her tone was serious enough to get her mother’s smile back into a small frown. 

 

     “Well, I -” Snow started, only to stop and shake her head. “no, no, I guess I haven’t.”

 

     “So how do you know?” Emma pressed.

 

     “Well, his actions speak pretty loudly.” Snow snorted. 

 

     “Last I remember, Regina’s actions were loud enough to have the whole town against her -  _ and _ ready to kill her. But you stopped them.” Emma’s heart raced as she sweated through her pajama shirt. 

 

     "Of course,” As if on cue, Snow’s signature, honey-sweet smile formed. “ _ I saw the good in her.” _

 

     Snow sounded so happy, so  _ proud _ . It made Emma’s head spin and her stomach flip in an unhealthy way. 

 

     “And why not him?” She managed to speak somehow, and cleared her throat. “Why did you never approach him? Why not see the good in him?”

 

     “Emma, please - you and I know how far gone he was.”

 

     “ _ Regina  _ was far gone! So far gone, she was able to split herself into two seperate people!” God,  _ this _ is what Gold was talking about! How could she have been so blind?

 

     “Keep your voice down!” Snow hushed, pressing a finger to her lips. Emma has the decency to wince and mentally apologize to Neal. Snow then continued. “He was the dark one.”

 

     “ _ I _ was the dark one,” Emma gritted out bitterly, her eyes now seeing exactly what Gold had suggested. Snow looked ready to protest, but Emma quickly shut her up as she continued. “I did unthinkable things. I hurt the people I loved. I was full of anger and darkness. And yet, there wasn’t a  _ single _ second you didn’t want to help me. No matter what I did - no matter who I  _ hurt _ and  _ lied _ to.”

 

     “You’re my  _ daughter _ .”

 

     “He’s Henry’s  _ grandfather _ .”

 

Snow blinked. “You...you were led down a one way road. You didn’t know what you were doing!  _ You saved Regina!” _

 

     Emma’s eyes were wide with shock. Pure, utter shock. The kind that left your mouth agape, your eyes dry, and your body chilled. She shook her head, huffing in anger as pulled out her wallet and threw down a few bucks. 

 

     “Emma, where are you -” 

 

     “He saved his  _ son _ .” Emma spat, clenching her fists. “Also known as Henry’s  _ father _ .”

 

     With one, last hardened look, Emma grabbed her coat and left the diner. This conversation was far from done, but Emma didn’t know how much she could take in one day.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is...a really short chapter. Sorry, guys. I know where I want this story to go, it’s just hard to take a plot and put it into words. Ack. I’m going to really try to take time to continue this fic, because I really do have ideas and things that need to be addressed. As sad as it is, even after years of distancing myself from this show, from losing my love of it(not for the show necessarily, because this show holds memories and helped me through too much, just for some seasons, etc), I’m still just not ready to leave this aspect of my life. OUAT and fanfiction, I mean. It’s been a major part of my life. It still is, kind of. Anyway, I would really appreciate a review or two. Motivation is key, and your comments and encouragement are just that. See you all soon.:P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna take a second to tell you all how grateful I am for every single kudos and review. You all are amazing, and so sweet and supportive, and every comment encourages me to write more and more.
> 
> Also, I know it's not until tomorrow, but Happy Fourth Of July! May America become better than it is now. May progression occur, or else, in simple terms, we're f*cked.

    Slamming the door in a fit of rage as she walked into her house half past five am definitely didn’t hold to Emma’s usual ‘cool mom’ vibe, but the satisfaction it brought when house shook a second after was worth it. 

_     “Emma?”  _

_     Shit _ . Emma froze at her husband’s distraught voice. She winced a little, still upset with him but tempered down enough to be reasonable

    “Uh, yeah?” Emma kicked off her shoes and made her way over to their bedroom. Killian looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but then again, neither did she. Thank God they were fairytale characters, because an 8am work sounded as awful as sleeping in an alley full of piss and cigarettes - which, Emma knew from experience, was not fun. 

    “That was quite an entrance,” Killian sat up, grunting a little as he adjusted his pillow. He flicked on the lights on, which was code for  _ we’re talking about this _ . Excellent. 

    “Would you rather me poof onto the bed next to you?” Eyebrows raised teasingly, she sighed and climbed onto the bed. She moved her legs to flop over his. 

    “I mean, it might have been quieter.” A very deep chuckle came from him, and Emma was suddenly reminded of how they first met. Once a pirate, always a pirate, she thought with a smile. 

    “Yeah, but smokey.” She pointed out, finding a way to bury herself next to him while maintaining eye contact. Killian didn’t seem to mind, wiggling himself to adjust and throw a loose arm over her. 

    “All the more dramatic.” 

    Well, she couldn’t deny that. The silence didn’t last too long before Killian spoke up. 

    “So,” The time came. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

    Emma really didn’t want to - the last twelve hours being more than enough for her - but ‘communication’, as her mother had once said, was the key to marriage. So, Emma sighed in distaste, but sat up anyway, taking her husband’s hand into her own. 

    He squeezed her hand encouragingly before she began. “I...alright, look, yesterday, I couldn’t stop thinking about Gold. Like...he just wouldn’t leave my mind. And the situa -”

    “Should I, uh, be worried or -  _ ow!”  _ Killian hissed as he rubbed his sore arm. 

_      “Not like that!” _ Emma looked insulted. “He’s Henry’s grandfather! He’s like  _ two hundred years old!” _

    Killian smirked as Emma swatted him again, softer than before.

    “ _ Anyway _ ,” Emma cleared her throat, averting her gaze to her knees. “Seeing his dream world - seeing the look on his face - it just...struck me the wrong way, you know? I had seen that face before. I knew it so well...and I couldn’t pinpoint where I’d seen it until I got home.”

    Emma finally gained the courage to look up. She saw Killian staring at her intently, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. She continued with a heavy sigh, shoulders raising and dropping into a shrug.

     “I was him,” One of Killian’s brows shot up in confusion as she rolled her eyes. “ _ I mean _ , that was  _ my _ face,” Another confused look. “The look, Killian, the  _ look _ . The same look I wore every day as a kid - the same look that prevented me from killing that lost boy. _ The Look. _ Every unwanted foster kid wears that look, and most of the time, they don’t realize they’re doing it.”

     Killian’s face softened, knowing how sensitive the topic was. Emma had touched briefly on it, but no more than a few disturbing stories told as jokes. 

    “So, you’re saying he’s a foster kid?” It came out a little more snooty than he had planned, but at least he wasn’t yelling. 

     “ _I’m_ _saying_ his father is a sociopath, who he had to _kill_ to stop, and his mother - who’s destined to kill him, by the way - is currently terrorizing the town,” She nudged his foot with her own. “I’m saying to give him a break. His past is messy, and is still haunting him.”

     “And you got all that from a  _ look?”  _

    “That look _ ,”  _ She squared her shoulders. “is more deep and buried into him than that curse of his. And unlike that curse, you can’t hide it. That feeling will be with him for the rest of his life. And, Killian,”

     Slipping her hand into his, she squeezed, eyes serious and dilated. “that feeling is not a good feeling.” 

     He squeezed back. “I get it.” 

    “Nothing is more damaging to a child than knowing your parents didn’t want you.”

    “I know,” And he did. “But that doesn’t excuse his actions,  _ what he’s done _ .”

    “But it excuses yours?” Before Killian could comment on that, Emma held up a hand. “Killian, everything that man has done to you is in retaliation to what you’ve done to him. Don’t act all noble. You’d be proving Gold’s point further if you did. You’re a  _ wonderful _ man,”

    She sat up to cup his face with her hands. Her nose brushed his as lips descended to lips. Her fingers tickled his skin as the pads rubbed against his faint stubble. She pulled away then, reminding him they were supposed to be  _ talking _ . 

    “But you haven’t always been. You’re track record is anything but clean, admit it.” Her lips quirked sideways as she shrugged. “But neither is mine. I stole from anything and anyone I saw. This doesn’t define us as much as it shapes us. Don’t let old anger and resentment define you as it did before. Both of you have been hurt. Both of you lost someone you love. You two aren’t as different as you think.”

    Quiet in shame, her husband lowered his head. “He killed Milah...”

    “You killed my grandfather,” Killian went silent at that, letting out a sigh as Emma lifted his chin to look him in the eye. “I know it’s different, but if both my father and I somehow forgave you, I think you can forgive Gold. And just maybe he might be able to forgive you for pursuing his wife, leaving him a single father, trading his son to his sadistic father, and shooting the love of his life.”

    “And I’ll forgive him for murdering the woman I  _ loved?”  _

    “Who was married,” Emma pointed out, scooching off the couch with a small smile. “But exactly.”

    Pecking him on the lips, Emma swayed to the restroom, leaving Killian blinking on the bed. Shaking her head, the savior grabbed a towel before shutting the door to take a well-deserved shower. 

 

\------------

 

    “Emma,” Emma turned her head, easily recognizing the soothing voice. 

    “Dr. Hopper,” She paused her steps to let him catch up.

    “Archie, please.” Pongo barked in protest, only stopping when Emma gave in and scratched his ears. “How are you? The town’s been so busy, I haven’t seen your usual stroll to Grannies in awhile.” 

    “I’m on my way there now, actually. Though, I’m debating over a grilled cheese or the four cheese macaroni.”  

    “That’s...quite the amount of cheese.”

    “You’re right,” She patted the top of Pongo’s head firmly. “I might as well get both.” 

    Archie looked mildly concerned, but bit his tongue as he followed her into the diner. He followed her around awkwardly, Pongo sniffing anyone and anything in front of him, having no sense of personal space. Thankfully, no one seemed to mind.

    After ordering at the counter - she wanted to say hi to Ruby - Emma sat down at a booth. Wiggling to get comfortable, she sipped her drink and eyed the therapist. 

    “You need somethin’?” Straw in her mouth, she tilted her head as Archie’s cheeks burned red. For a therapist, he was awfully shy around people. 

    “Yes, ah,” Gesturing to the empty booth across from her, he smiled nervously. “may I take a seat?”

    “Be my guest,”  _ -bring out service to the test _ . God, she had to stop watching Disney movies with Henry. She snickered at the thought of Gold reacting  _ that _ .

    “You’re laughing.” Archie’s lip twitched into a calm smile. 

    “Not at you,” She waved a hand, then thought of the little candle dancing and waving his candle stick around. That only caused her to cough on her water. She needed to stop before she peed herself. “What’s up?”

    “Ah, well...town’s pretty small, news travels fast…”

    “And?”

    He sighed, looking embarrassed and reluctant. “A few people saw you walking out of Gold’s shop,” He scratched his neck. “And people were just...concerned.” 

She rolled her eyes. Not this again.

    “Concerned, huh?” Where was her food? Surely the cricket would leave if her food came. She came here so eat, not for a session. “Well, tell them their concern is unwarranted.” 

    “Right, of course.” He smiled. “So how was it?”

    “How was what?”

    “Talking to Gold.”

    Her eyes narrowed at his cheeky smile. “What are you doing?” 

    “Nothing!” 

    “ _ Okay _ then.”

    Her food finally came: grill cheese next to four cheese macaroni. Say she didn’t finish it, it’d make great leftovers. With the days events,though, she figured she’d finish it easily. Fork in hand, she was ready to indulge. 

    “What’d you two talk about?” 

    Her fork clattered onto the plate. She wanted to slam her head onto the table. Or maybe  _ his _ head. ”Are you serious? Do you really have nothing better to do then to pester me about my private life?”

    “This is a small town, Emma, no one’s life is private,” Archie shrugged, patting Pongo’s head. “Besides, I’m a therapist. It’s my job to pester people about their private life.”

    “I don’t remember ordering a session,” Emma grumbled, taking a harsh bite of her grilled cheese. “Why do you care anyway?” 

    “It’s not the subject I care about.” He admitted. 

    Emma stopped chewing at that. “If I didn’t know any better, Hopper, I’d say you’re hitting on me.” 

    Like a lightbulb, Archie’s cheeks flared red. He coughed and fidgeted like a school boy, nervously stroking Pongo’s head. 

    Please tell her the cricket didn’t have a crush on her. 

    “No! It’s...not like that.” 

    “Not like that?” 

    Archie scrambled to speak, flustered and red up to his ears. Payback was fun. 

    “Emma,” He cleared his throat, looking oddly sweaty in his sweater vest. “I’m not hitting on you.”

    “You’re not?”

    “No!” Emma’s narrowed eyes made him sigh. “You’re a lovely girl, Emma, but you’re not my type.”

    Emma’s mouth opened into a half grin. 

    “You got a type, Hopper?” She teased, smiling. Ohhh, yes, payback _was_ _great_. “What’s your type, then?”

    “Emma -”

    “Oh, come on, doc, don’t be a prude! We all got them, It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

    “Emma, can we please focus on you for a minute?” Poor guy was  _ pleading _ .

    “No, this is  _ much _ more fun.”

    “Emma,” He sighed. 

    “I don’t want to talk about me,” She whined, pouting. “Now, come on, what’s your type? Maybe I could hook ya up with a nice lady - it’s about time, Hopper, you’re not gonna be young forever, you know.”

    “That’s really not necessary…”

    “Hopper, come on, don’t you want a wife?” Shoving a bite of mac and cheese into her mouth, she shook her head with a smile. “There’s plenty of women out there, Archie, and any one of them would be lucky to have you.”

    “That’s...sweet of you, Emma, really. But I’m really not interested.” 

    “In dating? Or my help? Because, I assure you, I’m great at -”

    “In  _ women _ .”

_     What? _

_“You’re_ _gay?_ Hopper,” Emma sighed into her arm, hand on her head. “Why didn't you start at that? This _ups_ our chances.”

    Archie lifted an eyebrow. “And how so?”

    Emma made a ‘duh’ gesture, lifting her arm and flicking her hand dramatically. “Because I like men, too. I know men much better than I know women, so this basically guarantees you a boyfriend.” 

    I didn’t -” Archie’s eyes narrowed. “ _ Hey!  _ We’re not talking about me here.”

    “Really? Who were we talking about then?” Snickering, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, hey, two o’clock.” 

    “Two...it’s not two it’s twelve?” 

    “No,  _ dumbass _ , look to your right.” She nodded her head at the entrance, where a tall blonde walked in. He had on dress shoes and slacks, but to top it all off, a cheesy, christmas sweater. 

    Archie, yet again, went beat red. 

_     “Oh, my God,”  _ He snapped his head back to her. ”You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

    “What, really? Come on, he’s cute, right? His christmas sweater will go great with your vests.” Emma was practically beaming at his embarrassment. 

    “It’s not even christmas!”

_     “Exactly,” _ She winked at him. “It’s a match made in Heaven.”

    “Emma, for the love of God,  _ please stop. _ ” 

    She snickered, grinning ear to ear. “Alright, alright,  _ fine _ . We’ll talk about me.” She pulled a piece of her grilled cheese off and dipped it in the remaining cheese sauce in her bowl. Archie noticeably grimaced. “Whaddya wanna know?”

    Clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses, Archie let out a sigh of relief. “What he talked to you about.” 

    “Like, word by word?” 

_     “Emma,” _ He sighed, looking ready to leave. 

    “Alright, jeex,  _ relax _ . I’ll tell you,” Waving over Ruby, Emma wiped her mouth with a napkin. “But it’s a long story, so I’m getting a hot chocolate.” 

    “With cinnamon?” 

    “You know me well, cricket.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, yeah, this chapter is way late and not very long, and...yeah, I’m just sorry. It’s been a crazy summer so far and finding time to write is close to nonexistent right now. But I’m trying and have not and will not abandon this story. Thanks for sticking with me:).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a month? Holy moly!
> 
> You can't say I'm not trying.

     Taking the time to put her thoughts into coherent words to explain it to a therapist was time consuming and exhausting, Emma found, taking a sip of her third hot chocolate. For one, each side held compelling points. Both pointed out obvious flaws in the others, as well as defended themselves in such a way that made Emma feel like she was a rope in a game of tug of war, rather on a side. Hopper, though, proved to be an excellent listener, and somehow, Emma’s head felt lighter at the end of her explaining. 

    “Well, what do you think?”

“What do I think?  _ Really _ , Archie?” 

     Archie sighed, folding his hands on the table, and giving her a scolding look. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, Emma.”

     “I just talked your ears off.” 

     “And yet, I still have no idea what you think about all of it.” His shrug indicated he wasn’t letting this go. 

    Emma bit her lip. What  _ did _ she think? 

     Part of her wanted to strangle Gold, to treat him like a villain as they always had a move on with it. Because these were her  _ parents _ . The two people in the world she should never turn on, the two people who loved her unconditionally, even after hearing about her complicated past. The two people who hugged her when she was upset, and woke her up with pancakes just because they  _ wanted _ to. The two had been nothing but good to her. It wasn’t  _ fair _ to turn on them.

     But it also wasn’t fair to ignore Gold, either. She wasn’t making that mistake again. 

     Because Gold had a point. He had  _ multiple _ points, all of which were exposing a wrong, and say they were anyone else, would have been addressed immediately. But since Gold had been dubbed a villain, it had been swept under the rug like dust, over and over, until the dust finally piled up and showed it’s ugly face. She had already seen it, and this time, couldn’t simply sweep it under again. It was here to stay, and it needed to be dealt with. 

     But dealing with it would create problems of their own, and between her and her parents, which made it so  _ difficult _ . She hated to be the one to call them out, but who else would? Everyone adored them, and Emma did, too. But these people adored them to the point that they could do no wrong. Was Emma ready to break that cycle? To expose a wrong doing? To expose  _ many _ wrong doings and go against her parents and everyone that followed them?

     “I love my parents, and I personally have never been too fond of Gold. That might be because I never got to know him personally, or maybe it’s because he distanced himself more than I did.” 

    “He wasn’t approachable.” Archie translated, nodding at her to go on. 

    Emma snorted. “Yeah, Gold’s not what I’d call approachable.” 

    “Not everyone enjoys company, as I’m sure you can relate to.” 

    She smiled at that. “I can. Which is why I found it so surprising when an unapproachable man like him seemed to be comfortable with a woman like Belle.” 

    “Who  _ is _ approachable.” 

    “Exactly,” She breathed. “The two are polar opposites, yet they worked. Somehow. Like Neal and I. We worked, and to this day, I’m not sure how.” 

    “Because he was approachable and you were not?”

    “He wasn’t just approachable, he was...everything I’m not. He was funny, and open, and he wore his heart on his sleeve like no one I’d ever met.” A lump formed in her throat. “He was  _ good  _ and _ kind _ , something I definitely wasn't. And I could never understand how a man like him could love or be around a woman like me, who was morbid, and closed off, and...and  _ mean _ . I was mean, Archie. I hated everyone and everything, I hated the  _ world _ .”

    “You were angry, Emma - the world ripped you away from your parents and let you live the way you did. Anyone would have been...mean, as you put it.” 

    “Neal wasn’t.” She said quietly, too afraid to upset the lump in her throat.

    “But Neal didn’t experience the misfortune you did,” Archie said lightly. “Pain is relative, and I’m not saying you had it worse. But your experiences, they were different.”

    “I hated everything, Archie.” Tears finally made their way down her cheeks, dripping at the end of her chin and down her neck. She bit her lip, now reminded they were in a  _ diner _ . 

    “He hated his father, Emma.” 

    She wiped her eyes. She hadn’t thought of that. “I guess.” 

    Adjusting in his seat, Archie handed her a napkin with a warm smile. He gave her a few minutes to collect herself, then continued. “Emma, why did you go to see Gold that night?” 

    She shrugged. “I guess I felt bad.” 

    “For?” 

    “His...the dream world. I saw some things I probably shouldn’t, things no one in this town knows better than I do.” 

    “Which is?” 

    “Abandonment.” 

    Archie silently nodded, understanding. “His mother.” 

    Shock laced her features. “You...he told you?” 

    Archie laughed a little, shaking his head. “No no, I read his story. Back in the curse, when Regina had confiscated the storybook, I kept it. I took a peak to better understand Henry’s language, and well, you can put two and two together.” 

    “Oh,” She looked down, guilt etching in her. “I never read his story.” 

    “You wouldn’t have been able to.” Archie took a sip of his tea. “As soon as the curse broke, the pages mysteriously disappeared.”  

    She lifted an eyebrow, “You’re saying he tore them out?” 

    Archie shrugged, but didn’t deny it. “Someone did.” 

    “Say it was him,” Emma swallowed. “why would he do that? Wouldn’t he want the others to see it and understand why he does what he does?” 

    “He’s a private person, Emma. I doubt he’s one to enjoy pity.” 

    “I’m not saying we should  _ pity _ him.” No matter how much he deserved it. 

    “But that’s ultimately what people would have done, isn’t it?” 

    She snorted. “Apparently not. The town knows all of this - now at least - and doesn’t seem to give a damn.” 

    “But you do,” Archie pointed out lightly. “Why is that?” 

    “Because I know what it’s like to know your parents don’t want you,”

    “And?” He pressed. 

    She huffed. “I don’t know, alright? He just…he had the same look in his eyes that I did as a kid, and it just...reminded my of how I grew up.” 

    Archie smiled. “That’s it.”

    Emma made a face. “ _ What’s _ it?” 

    “You see yourself in him.” 

    Emma looked at him weirdly. “When you put it like that, it sounds weird.” 

    “But it’s true, isn’t it?”

    “I guess.”

    Archie’s smile grew. “Both of you know what it’s like to be parentless. Both of you are more similar than you think.” 

    “I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to have a psycho mother after me, but yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

    “Then, tell me, Emma, whose side are you choosing?” 

    “That’s the  _ problem _ , I don’t  _ want _ to pick a side.” She grunted in irritation.

    “Then,  _ don’t _ . You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

    “And yet, I do.” Emma laughed bitterly. “God, I’m so tired of all this villain or hero crap. Why can’t we just be people?” 

    “Why  _ can’t _ you?” 

    Emma paused, having no answer. “I don’t know.”

    “Then there’s nothing stopping you from treating everyone  _ just like people _ . And people, Emma, make mistakes and can grow from them.” 

    “They can’t if they won’t acknowledge their mistakes.”

    “Emma, you don’t  _ need _ to do anything. You can let this go and ignore it for as long as you like. You already have for this long, so why bring it up now?”

    Emma looked at him, flabbergasted. “Because it’s not right! I don’t  _ want _ to ignore it.” 

    Archie softly patted her hand. 

    “Then, don’t.” With that, Archie slid out of his booth and stood up. “You know what you want to do, you’re just scared of it. Don’t let fear deter you, Emma.”

    Then, he walked away and out the door, Pongo trotting alongside him. 

 

\----------------

 

    Feeling lighter than she had all day, Emma decided a nice stroll was earned. The weather was nice, cold enough not to sweat on a walk, but warm enough to stroll without a jacket. The sunlight was strong, but the wind was stronger. 

    Somehow, her feet carried her to the cemetery. Gravestones littered with flowers were in neat rows, and some even had pictures. It was depressing, to say the least, knowing all these people in the photographs were dead. It became even more depressing when a familiar gravestone came into view. Despite her better judgement, she was there before she could stop herself. 

    “Hey, Neal - er,  _ Bae _ .” She winced, then huffed. “Okay, look, I respect your name and everything, but I’m not calling you that. I feel like a schoolgirl when I do.” 

    Kneeling down, she plucked a bouquet of old, wilted flowers and tossed it elsewhere. Then, sat down and crossed her legs. 

    “So, I guess your dad’s not half as bad as you explained him to be. I mean, he’s still an asshole, and lacks some serious social skills, but he’s nice enough. Kinda goes for that old, grumpy dude who's actually a huge softie in disguise. He looks like he’d kick a puppy, but would actually spoil it to death. I definitely get that vibe from him.” She laughed, remembering when Pongo came into his shop so long ago. “He’s actually admitted to liking dogs, you know. Pongo - that’s the cricket’s dog, he’s all spotted - came into his shop once, and your dad actually smiled. I think he may have laughed, too. And not his weird, I’m better than you laugh, but a  _ genuine _ laugh.”

    She sighed, looking around to make sure no one was around. She didn’t want to be dubbed insane. 

    “I...I just realized you don’t know half the stuff I do. About him - Gold - I mean. He...he’s had a tough life, Neal.” With a shaky breath, she chuckled. “I met your grandma. It’s safe to say your lucky you didn’t meet her. She’s currently terrorizing this town, and your dad especially. She wants him  _ dead _ .”

    Now full blown laughed, Emma brought her knees to her chest and she buried her head in them and  _ wheezed _ .

    “She’s the fucking _black fairy_ , Neal. Your dad’s _mom_ is the _black fairy_. Your _grandfather_ is _Peter Pan,_ your grandmother is _The Black Fairy_ , and your _father_ is _Rumplestiltskin_ The Dark One - what the _Hell?”_

    She probably shouldn’t be laughing, but the uncontrollable laughter was far from stopping. “ _ Oh, my God _ . Can you imagine if we got married? They’d be my  _ in-laws _ . Peter Pan and The Black Fairy - the true  _ Monster-in-laws _ . I bet they’d try to kill me just like in the movie - except they’d poof away before confrontation. Oh, my God - your family is  _ messed up _ , Neal.”

    She was now laughing  _ and _ sobbing, and snot dribbled onto her lips. She wiped it with her sleeve. “Why -  _ why _ is everything so complicated with you? Why did you have to be a fairytale? Why couldn’t you be  _ normal?” _

    No one answered her, as expected. Silence rang through the cemetery. 

    “I think my parents might actually be the villains at the moment,” Her voice was a whisper among the shaking of the trees. “They’re hypocrites, Neal. And I have to do something about it. I..I  _ want _ to. It’s eating me up.”

    Wiping her eyes messily, she clasped her hands together. “Some man once told me spirits were real. He spent 6 minutes chasing me on the street, insisting I listen to him. I didn’t, of course, you know I don’t believe in that stuff. But I do remember something he said. He told me, ‘people only die when they’re forgotten. If you never forget someone, they never die.’ Now, obviously, there’s a lot of flaws in this logic. I remember laughing at it then, but…”

    Letting out an irritating sound, Emma shook her head. “I didn’t know you were going to die, and I wasn’t ready to let you die. I may have hated you so much it made me crazy, but it also made me feel alive. I loved you so much, and it almost killed me, because hating someone is easier than loving someone. And yet, I loved  _ and _ hated you.  _ That _ is fucked up.”

    “What I’m trying to say is: if what that man said is real - and I don’t believe it is - then help me.  _ God _ ,  _ help me, Neal _ . Because right now I am angry and pissed, and I don't want to go back to that - I’ve come too far.” Wiping her eyes, she swallowed. “You left me once, then died on me. This is the least you can do, okay? I need you, and you’re not here, and while I love Killain with all my heart, that is  _ killing me _ . Because everyday, Henry looks and acts more and more like you. Did you know he refuses to eat any other pizza except New York style? Or how he hates, absolutely hates, onion rings? He  _ definitely _ didn’t get that from me.”

    “So you owe me,  _ big time.”  _ Standing up and wiping the dirt off of her pants, Emma hugged herself. “I don't know how you can help me, but I’ve already lost you, I can’t lose my parents, too. So, please,  _ help me be strong _ .”

    As Emma walked away from the cemetery, she couldn’t help but be disappointed. She definitely didn't feel any stronger than before. In fact, as she sniffled and hiccuped her way home, she couldn’t help but feel like some strength had been taken  _ away _ .

     So much for spirits.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can tell that my overextended departure from ao3 has caused me to loose some of my audience, and I just want to quickly apologize again. It was never my intention to just drop off the face of the earth like that, it just happened. Anyway, here's another update. I enjoyed writing the first bit, but the last bit has me feeling a little doubtful of my writing skills. I hope it's not too terrible. Hope you all are well and happy! Sending good vibes to everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have no idea what this is. I started this one-shot a day after episode 19 of season 6 came out, around 2 in the morning and jazzed on coffee. And so, I'm posting it. I really loved the scene between Emma and Gold in the dream world, it was refreshing seeing Rumple actually talk to someone about his parents. I've always wanted more scenes with them. Oh, and so no one gets confused, this is NOT A SHIP. I DO NOT SHIP THEM. I'm talking either frendshipish or father-daughter kind of. In a way. I was just rewatching season 1 for shits and giggles because I really missed it, and I came across so many sweet and funny scenes with Gold and Emma. I've loved their dynamic from the beginning. All of you Snow and Charming lovers, please don't get offended. I am in no way saying they are evil or they're actions and stuff is like not justified or anything. I just think that after season 3 (the best season, in my opinion), Emma seemed to dismiss her moral values. Even when she didn't approve of Gold or any one else's actions, she also would tell her parents when she thought something was wrong. Now? She goes with it. Ultimately, this is the show's fault. After season three, the writers used Rumple as an escape goat and completely forgot and dismissed Rumple's redemption/arc? Like...no one talked about it? And all the characters just...like...never even mentioned or thanked him for sacrificing his life to save them, people who haven't don't shit for him? Idk, it made me angry. Rumple's character is so complex and still one of my favorite villainy characters ever. I just expected more from the writers, but hey, I have no idea what it's like to write a show, so no judgment here. But yeah...I might continue this, I might not. Most likely will, though - because I have a lot of things I want to address that I felt was unfair and stuff and...I'm going to stop taking now, aha. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Please tell me what you think of it, and really, I want to know what you think of the points, and agree with me on how they forgot Rumple's arc and all that stuff. But, uh, enjoy!


End file.
